EMMA AND I- English story

Sheila Hocken was born with very poor sight which grew weaker as she got older. By the time she was a young woman, she was blind. Through the Guide Dog Association, she was introduced to Emma, the chocolate-coloured Labrador which was to become her guide, companion and friend. In this extract from her book Emma and I, she tells of her first training sessions with Emma.

My first walk with Emma came that afternoon, and it was immediately evident why we had to have a month's training with the dogs. Although
Emma took to me, and we got on well together, she would not do a thing I told her. She would obey no one but Brian. Attachment and obedience to me would clearly come only with training. I put Emma's harness on, and we started off down a quiet road near the centre. Brian was standing next to us. He gave the command to go forward, but before he even got the -ward' bit out, we were off - several miles down the road it seemed, and I was galloping along, holding on grimly to the harness,
"I'll never manage to keep this up," I managed to gasp.
"Oh, you'll soon get used to it," said Brian. "You'll get fitter as you go along. "The trouble is you've been used to walking slowly."
A guide-dogs pace apparently averages four miles an hour. This compares with an ordinary sighted person's two or three miles an hour. So what kind of speed I used to achieve before, I've no idea, but it was obviously not even competitive with the snail population. At last I began to settle down to the tast rhythm, and was just beginning to think I might enjoy it after all when, without any warning whatsoever, Emma stopped. I was off the pavement betore I could pull up. Emma had sat down at the
kerb, and I heard Brian laughing.
"Don't go without your dog! That's Lesson Number One," Brian said. "If you go sailing on when she stops at the kerb, you'll get run over. She stops..you stop."
"Well, I didnt know she was going to stop, did I? And you didn't tell me." "No, you're right. But you've got to learn to follow your dog."

Brian was about twenty-eight at the time, very pleasant and with a great sense of humour. I imagined him good-looking with fair hair and glasses. I liked him especially because he refused to make concessions" to our blindnes. He expected us to be independent. Rather than mop us up and say, 'There, there,' when we fell off the kerb, he would turn it into a joke, which was the best medicine. At least it was for me. It certainly made me get up and think, "Right, I'll show you who can be a good guide-dog Owner."
So on this occasion, I got back behind Emma, took up the harness again and said, "Whats next?" "You've got to cross this road. First you listen for any tratfic. If it's quiet, you give Emma the command to go forward."
When I could hear no traffic, that is what I did. But nothing happened. Brian said, "She knows that you' re behind her, not me. You' ve got to
encourage her, to make her want to take you over the road."
"Good girl, Emma," I said. "There's a clever dog." And after a while more of this persuasion, and the word 'Forward' thrown in from time to time, she finally took me across the road.
Crossing the road with a guide-dog is a matter of teamwork, whatever you do, you do it together. I have met sighted people with such weird ideas about this, Either they think the dogs are not very clever, but just wear the harness to show that their owner is blind - a sort of plea for help - or they think the dogs are superhuman, and the blind people are idiots who are being taken around for a walk, as other people take their dogs.

The importance of partnership or even its existence, never seems to occur to most people. My job when crossing the road was to listen and
Emma's was to look. Only when I could hear nothing should I give her the Command to cross. But if I was wrong in my assessment of the traffic, and She could see something coming, she should wait until it was clear. Guide-dogs are taught to stop and sit down at every kerb and wait for the next command. The four basic commands are, 'Right', 'Left, 'Back and Forward'. And you have to position yourself with your dog so that you give her every opportunity to obey the right command. For instance when the command to go forward is given, it is accompanied by an indication in that direction with the arm. It is also important to keep talking to the dog, and Brian reminded me of this on our first walk, just after we had  crossed the road.
"Don't stop talking, or Emma will think you have fallen asleep." "What do I say?" I asked rather stupidly.
"It doesn't matter, as long as you make it interesting. Tell her what you had for breakfast if you like."
So there I was, galloping along a street in Leamington discussing bacon and eggs with a chocolate-coloured Labrador. Brian went on, "You're working together, and if you stop talking, she'll stop working. You've got to keep her interest. She's a dog and there are lots of nice, interesting smells all around, and things passing that you can't see. So unless you talk, she'll get distracted and stop to sniff a lamp post." I was quite hoarse by the time we had finished our first walk together. I owe a great deal to Brian, not only for his training but also for matching Emma and me together. His assessment of all he knew about us resulted in an inspired pairing, as time was to prove.
One day I remember asking him where Emma came from. What I really meant was how did the centres obtain the guide-dogs. Brian explained that they came to Leamington, or one of the other centres, after being puppy-walked. The Guide Dog Association has a big breeding and puppy-walking centre at Tollgate House, near Warwick. They own a number of brood bitches and stud dogs that are let out to people as pets because, naturally, a permanent kennel-life is not desirable, and living with a family is a much happier arrangement. At the same time, the Association controls which dog should mate with which. When the litter comes along, it picks the dogs or bitches required for training. At about eight weeks old, a puppy undergoes various tests to see if it is basically bold and friendly, and capable of being trained as a guide-dog. Dogs trained in this way form about sixty percent of the total, and there are now about two thousand guide-dog owners in the country. The remaining forty percent come to the Association either by purchase or donation from breeders or private individuals.
But the rejection rate is high. Dogs are kept on approval for three weeks to see if they are suitable. If they are not, they are returned to their owners.The dogs chosen are usually female because the male dog has a rather different outlook and nature, including a territorial instinct, and is not as easy to manage as the female, which is spayed for the purpose of being a guide-dog. About seventy percent of the dogs chosen are Labradors, like Emma -though I like to think she is uniquet even among Labradors - and the remainder are Alsatians, Collies, Golden Retrievers and crosses from all these breeds.
Once the selection is made, the puppies go to people called puppy-walkers, who live around the training centres, and give homes to the
trainee guide-dogs for a year. In this time they have to teach the dog the basics. The dogs learn how to be well-mannered and clean in the house,
to keep off the furniture, not to beg for food and to obey commands such as 'Sit', 'Stay', 'Down', 'Come', and so on. They are taught to walk on a
lead, but not at heel because, of course, they will eventually be required to walk in front of a blind man or woman. In general, the puppy-walkers are expected to take the dog everywhere with them so that the dog is not shy of traffic, buses or trains, or the sort of sudden noises that sometimes occur in the street. During this phase, the puppy grows up and becomes used to life in a busy town or city. At the same time, she should remain bold and friendiy.
At this point, Brian told me, they come to the centre for guiding training, which lasts about five months. The puppy-walkers do a wondertul job couldn't do it myself; have a dog for a year, then part with it; then have another one, and see it go, and so on. I really admire those who do so much to forge the first essential link between dog and blind person.
Naturally, when Brian told me all this, I wanted to know who had puppy-walked Emma, and he said, Someone called Paddy Wansborough. Shes a marvellous woman. She's given nine or ten dogs to the Association after puppy-walking them. In fact, Emma wasn't bred by the Association. She was given to Paddy as a puppy, given her basic training year, and then donated to the Association. I determined that one of the first things I would do when I got home would be to contact Paddy Wansborough. Next day, I was out with Emma again. As the training progressed I gradually got more used to her. We used a mini-bus to get us about Leamington, and this played a big part in the training, because it taught us how to use public transport. When we were on the bus and the dogs under the seat, I heard a great bellow from Brian, "I can see two brown paws Sticking out." Brown paws, I thought, that must be Emma. He went on, "Do you want somebody to stand on her?"
"No, of course I don't."
"Well, do something about it."
I began to wonder if my first impressions of Brian had been wrong. But though he was shouting at me a lot, he must have guessed what I was thinking.
"No one else is going to tell you these things, Sheila. If you don't learn here, Emma will be the one that sufters, not you."
My trust in Emma grew daily, but I really knew she had transferred her affections from Brian to me on about the tenth day of my stay at the centre.
Up to then, she had always slept on her dog-bed on the other side of the room. But on this particular evening, she refused to go to her bed Instead she curled up on the floor as near to my pillow as she could get. I felt then that we had made it. We were a team, each needing the others company. I woke next morning with an odd sensation. It felt as if there were a steam- roller on my chest. Emma was sitting on top of me, pushing with her nose, telling me, I have no doubt at all, that it was time for us both to get up. She was full of life and exuberance, and I could not wait to start the day. When I did get up, I could hear her shake herself in anticipation, and stand wágging her tail near the door. One of the centre's ingenious ways of familiarising us with the day's programme was by maps which we could feel with our fingers. Pavements, buildings, and so on were raised on a wooden map of Leamington, so we could feel our way over the routes beforehand, right down to the zebra crossings and the bus stops. Emma would find these things for me, but I had to be in the right road and the map helped tremendously to make sure we did not miss our way. Our walks became more and more complicated, and Brian would try to find places where there were roadworks to
ensure that we mastered the business of getting round them, as well as other obstacles. Bus trips and shopping expeditions were also on the curriculum, and I enjoyed shopping with Emma. She would not only find the shop, but also take me up to the counter. I began to forget that I was blind. No one fussed round me any longer. They were all too interested in Emma. But things did not always go smoothly. I was not too keen on the obstacle course we had to practise. Emma always reacted very quickly and usually I was not fast enough to follow. She would see the obstacle, assess it, and take a snap decision which way to go. Before I knew what was happening she would have changed course from one side or the other, and would be left in a trail of harness and confusion. Brian always seemed to be on hand when I made mistakes, even if I thought he was following some other student. I would suddenly hear a great shout. "When your dog jumps, you jump."

It was easier said than done. On occasions like this, Emma would lose confidence and sit down immediately. It was almost as if she were saying
It's no good me dong my bit, if all you can do is trail behind and finish up in heap. Literally the only way I could get her back to work again was
to apologise and promise to do better next time.
It was while we were doing the obstacle course that I learned one of Emma's aversions. lt came to our turn and we were going through the
obstacles fairly well. All at once, Emma shot off like a rocket, and I found myself being taken at right angles up a steep, grassy bank. As we went, I heard Brian hysterical with laughter. When we finally came to a stop, I said rather breathlessly, "What was all that about? Whatever did she do that for?"
"Oh, it's Napoleon."
"Napoleon? What do you mean, Napoleon?" I thought Brian had suddenly gone out of his mind.
"You know," he said. "The cat. Napoleon the cat."
"Oh," I said. But I still didn't know why Emma had shot up the bank.
Brian, still laughing, explained that Emma could not stand cats. She knew better than to chase them, but if she saw one, she would take off in the opposite direction - the opposite direction in this case having been the steep grassy bank. Still, Brian did congratulate me on my alacrity" and speed in following, and promised to keep us in mind if there was ever a guide-dog expedition to Everest. At the same time, I thought the only way to cure Emma of her dislike for cats would be to get one, and I put that down on my list of resolutions for when I got home.
That evening as we were sitting in the lounge, Brian came in and we laughed again about Emma and the cat. Then I asked him something that fascinated me more and more the longer the course went on. How did they train the dogs to accomplish the amazing things they did for us? I knew a little about dog training from the experience I had had with them, but I could not understand some of the dogs abilities. After all, it is a fairly simple matter to train a dog to sit at a kerb every time, but how do you train them to disobey you? I asked Brian. "For instance, I told Emma to go forward yesterday when I hadn't heard a car coming, and she wouldnt go because she had seen one. How on earth do you train them to do that?"
Brian replied, "Once you've got a dog basically trained, and you're waiting to cross a road, you tell the dog to go forward. The dog obeys immediately, but you don't move, and the car other trainers drive them for these exercises hoots and makes a lot of noise, and the dog comes back on the pavement. By repetition of this sort of thing, the dog is conditioned to associate the moving vehicle with danger and, therefore, despite all instinct to obey, refuses to move even when the command is given. Of course, only fairly intelligent dogs will respond like this, and that's why we have to test them very carefully for character and àptitude to begin with."
"What about obstacles?" I asked. Brian explained that the principle behind teaching dogs not to walk their Owners into obstacles was to get the dog to associate an obstacle with displeasure to use a mild word and also distress. A start is made with something simple, such as a post. The dog walks the trainer into a post and is stopped immediately. The post is banged to draw attention to it, and the right way to walk round it, allowing room for the blind person, is shown.
The next time a forceful 'NO' is shouted when the post is collided with, and the right way is shown again. So by repetition the dog eventually gets the message. At the same time, the range of obstacles is extended to include
the most frequent pavement obstacles of all, people. It sounded simple in a way, but I knew a lot of hard work and talented training went into all this. The trainers, Brian told me, work with a blindfold on when they considered the dogs had reached a certain standard of proficiency. They did this for about a fortnight to create real working conditions for the dogs, and give them confidence through working with someone they knew. It was interesting to hear Brian explain it all, and particularly in the light of what followed in the last stage of the course, the disobedience part. We were nearing the end of our month at Leanmington, and went out once more in the mini-bus. Emma's paws by now were always tucked away. Brian told me we were going to the railway station as a final test. I have always loathed railway stations because of the noise, the hundred and one different obstacles and the general sense of bustle which, if you are blind, is scaring. I got to dislike them so much I would never go into one, still less travel by train, even if there was a sighted person to take me. But Brian insisted. "Well, you know, you've got to get used to it. You might want to go by rail one day, or meet somebody off a train, and you' ve got Emma to guide you now. She knows her way around. There's nothing to it"
I was not convinced. We got to the station and I put Emma's harness on. Brian said, "Right, I'll just go and park. You go in, Emma knows the way I'll be with you in a minute or two."
Emma took me through the doors, down a couple of flights of steps, in and out between people on the platform and then sat down. I had no idea
where I was. I just stood and waited for Brian and he was there within a couple of minutes. "Right," he said, "Emma's sitting right on the edge of the
platform. There's a six foot drop in front of you to the railway line. Now tell her to go forward."

I was terrified and could feel my spine tingle "You must be joking" i said "No go on tell her to go forward"
I stood there not knowing what to do. This really was a terrible test, Dare I do it? I was so Scared. I felt sick. In that moment, I really did not want a guide-dog everything I had learned about them, all the training we had done alI I felt about Emma flashed through my mind, and it meant nothing. I just wanted, there and then, to lay the harness on Emma's back and leave, get out, escape anything.. But in sort of hoarse whisper I heard myself saying,  'Forward.'
Immediately, up she got, and almost in the same motion pushed herself in front of my legs. Then she started pushing me back, right away from the edge of the plattorm.
I have never felt so ashamed in all my life. I felt about an inch tall. How could I possibly have been so doubting, so unworthy of Emma? I was pletely humiliated. Brian said, "There you are, I told you Emma would look after you, whatever you do. Whatever you tell her to do, if there's any
danger in front of you, she'll push you away."
So that was it. We had made it. The sense of freedom was incredible. I got over my awful feelings Of shame because I sensed that Emma understood and forgave. That afternoon I walked with her down the Parade in Leamington, the busy main road crowded with shoppers. I walked with a great big smile on my face, weaving in and out of all those people, and feeling: I dont care if you can see that I'm blind, I can see too. I've got Emma and she's all I need.

Emma and I Questions

1. Why would Emma not obey her new mistress at first?
2. What was Brian's attitude to his blind pupils?
3. Blind people and their guide dogs have to work together as partners. Discuss how Sheila Hocken and Emma learned how to do this.
4. Why do guide dogs have to be selected so carefully?
5. Do you think it was a good idea for Sheila to get a cat when Emma hated them so much?
6. The incident on the platform at the railway station changed Sheila's life forever. Why is this true?
7. Work in pairs. Take it in turns to be blindfolded and be led by your partner around an obstacle course. Write about how you felt.
8. Find out how some other disabled people cope with their disabilities and write a composition about it.

Answers on our IG, special thanks to Sheila Hocken

 The End